


Cliff-Hangar

by Jay_eagle



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Gen, MJN Air Is A Family, lost cat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 23:22:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7733821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jay_eagle/pseuds/Jay_eagle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written as a fast-fic (15 mins) for the prompt "Douglas, cat, hangar".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cliff-Hangar

**Author's Note:**

  * For [doorwaytoparadise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/doorwaytoparadise/gifts), [madnina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/madnina/gifts).



> I'd like to acknowledge a debt of inspiration for one particular facet of this story to vinyl_octopus' lovely fic 'Earhart', which I strongly encourage you to go and read! (http://archiveofourown.org/works/1745321)

Martin wasn’t surprised, when he arrived at the portacabin, that Douglas wasn’t there. What did slightly startle him was that neither Carolyn nor Arthur were there either, given that their car was outside and that there were clear signs that they had arrived at the office already – a half-drunk glass of pineapple juice on the side, Carolyn’s scarf over her chair.

 

Perplexed, he hung his jacket up, and headed out to the apron to make enquiries. “Carolyn?” he called. He walked round to check Arthur’s little patch of green earth, in which their steward had been (futilely) attempting to grow some sunflowers. “Arthur?”

 

No sign of them. And curiouser and curiouser – there was no sign of anyone else either. No mechanics. No fire crew. No other pilots (leisure or professional). Martin even began to wonder whether there’d been some sort of mass alien abduction or plague that had left him the only person in Fitton – or maybe even on earth...

 

He gave himself a little shake and told himself not to be daft. As he wandered the unusually silent airfield, he gradually became aware of an odd, subdued muttering from the very end of the line of hangars. He hastened towards the unusual noise, utterly bemused. What could it be?

 

Martin rounded the corner, and stopped still in amazement. There was quite a crowd of people squeezed into the not-particularly-wide space between the hangars, and the narrow area was further constrained by the presence of Fitton’s one and only fire truck, whose ladder was extended as far as it could go. Even stranger – everyone in the crowd seemed to be looking upwards, whispering to each other now and again.

 

Martin suddenly picked out Arthur and Carolyn amongst the spectators and marched towards them officiously. “What on earth’s going on?”

 

As one, at least half the crowd turned and flapped at him, Carolyn and Arthur included. “Shh!”

 

Martin gaped, then took his place next to Carolyn, following her eye line to the edge of the roof. “What…?” he asked, weakly, whispering this time.

 

“Douglas is…”

 

But Carolyn’s sentence was drowned out by a cheer. Martin whipped his head up again, and his mouth fell open even further. Douglas was on the roof, a wriggling cat clamped firmly under one arm.

 

“He got it!” Arthur was dancing on the spot, almost knocking Carl over. “Douglas got it!”

 

“Of course I did.” Douglas was descending the ladder, now, one-handed – almost making it look easy, Martin thought, with a flash of irrational jealousy. “I told you I would rescue it, didn’t I?”

 

Phil was climbing down behind Douglas, looking disgruntled. “It was far too dangerous,” he muttered, just loudly enough for Douglas to hear. “All for a smelly stray.”

 

“Nonsense.” Douglas had regained terra firma and was tickling the wriggling moggy under the chin. “We’re safely down, aren’t we? And Earhart, too.”

 

“Earhart?” Martin reached out to pet the cat, rather involuntarily. He didn’t want cat hair on his uniform… but there was something rather raggedly appealing in the now-purring cat’s demeanour.

 

“I thought naming her after an aviatrix would please you, captain.”

 

Arthur was wriggling ecstatically. “Thanks for getting her for me, Douglas.”

 

“She’s yours?” Martin had been wondering why Arthur had been looking more mysterious than usual for the last week. Perhaps this development also explained the smell of fish that had hung around their resident steward of late.

 

“Not… exactly.” Arthur had the grace to blush. “But she’s been looking all _hungry_. I couldn’t ignore her, could I?”

 

“Yes.” Carolyn’s glare was one of her iciest.

 

“Mum…” Arthur did his best puppy-dog eyes.

 

“ _NO_ , Arthur.” Carolyn folded her arms. “How do you think Snoopadoop will take to a stray cat?”

 

“But I thought she could live here!”

 

Before Carolyn could refuse, Douglas cut smoothly in, clearly still glorying in the admiring looks being cast his way at his act of derring-do. “She could help us make sure that no customers _ever_ see the odd mice I’ve noticed scampering round the outside of the office at night,” he pointed out.

 

Carolyn frowned, then sighed. “Oh, _fine_.”

 

Arthur’s smile was enough to make the sun seem dim. “ _Brilliant!”_

**Author's Note:**

> I hang out on Tumblr if you fancy saying hello! jay-eagle.tumblr.com if you'd like to find me.


End file.
